


i saw you in a dream

by intoxicatelou



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, M/M, Peter Parker Has Daddy Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Praise Kink, Quentin really plays Peter and its not... fair, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Starker Bingo 2019, Tony Stark Angst, Vignettes, What is Dead May Never Die, but rises again harder and stronger, gift giving is a love language that Peter struggles with, hallucination verse but make it canon, inspired by the scene in ffh where peter literally says "everywhere i go i see his face", peter is lonely and tired and grieving, reference of underage, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-29 16:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20085076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/pseuds/intoxicatelou
Summary: The first time Peter sees him, he forgets. Instead, he blinks away the sleep from his eyes, turns on his side, and grins. “Hey, Mr. Stark. It’s awfully early.”or the one where Peter really, really misses Tony.Starker Bingo Fill: Endgame Compliant





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> it's crazy because i started writing in this fandom with my [hallucination verse head canon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609901/chapters/26099847) like two years ago and now after watching end-game and far from home, it's clear Peter has ptsd that's a little (if not a lot) out of hand. so here we are.
> 
> to be honest this story kind of wrote itself. it feels weirdly personal and necessary so i hope you'll appreciate the muse as much as i do. big thanks to my beta dina for being the best & brightest and helping me clean this up a little. 
> 
>   
this whole fic kind of blew up from [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Z2Np0rXWrFrX36IhvUjl2?si=lJ2j82n-TSCQ2GRUJzHngw) but mostly, from this version of [i saw you in a dream by the japanese house](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ltmioOsLQsL0OFgcPbdVi?si=je_uhu6HQna7JfHq8gdfgQ). 
> 
> as always, kudos/comments are super appreciated. 
> 
> *redating for starker bingo reasons*
> 
> using this to fill Starker Bingo prompt: _Endgame Compliant _

_ _

_ I saw you in a dream _

_ You had stayed the same _

_ You were beckoning me _

_ Said that I had changed _

The first time Peter sees him, he forgets. Instead, he blinks away the sleep from his eyes, turns on his side, and grins. “Hey, Mr. Stark. It’s awfully early.” 

They are in Peter’s bedroom, which is dark other than the hum of the Iron Spider suit in the corner and a digital alarm-clock which reads _ 4:29 am _. Tony sits where he sat that very first time, at the end of Peter’s twin bed. But unlike then, the man is dressed down, wearing a pair of black sweats and a grey henley. Peter can see the familiar outline of nanotech underneath. 

“I know, kid, I’m sorry.” Tony pauses, eyes flitting to the stretch of skin where Peter’s sleep shirt had ridden up above the waistband of his boxers, and then. “Couldn’t help myself.” 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Peter says, pushing himself up to lean against the wall, reveling in the slight heat of Tony’s gaze. God, it’s been so long. “I miss you.” 

Tony toes off his shoes, pulls his feet up till he’s sitting across from Peter, back leaning against the post of the bunk bed. “I miss you too, Peter.” It should get old, but Peter still feels the warmth pool in his stomach at hearing his name in Tony’s voice. “You’ve got to know.” 

“I do,” Peter responds immediately, “but it’s nice to hear it again.”

“Okay.” Tony hums, the hint of a smile crossing his face. “You’re beautiful. Smart. Kind. The best person I know.” 

“Mr. Stark—“ Peter knows he’s blushing, can feel his cock twitch in interest at the praise. 

“I miss you. I’ll never get tired of saying that.” Tony finishes, voice low and soft, a tone Peter knows is reserved for him and him alone. 

“_ Tony _,” Peter breathes, climbing towards the older man until he’s sitting on Tony’s lap. The older man’s hands slide up his thighs, resting easy on Peter’s hips, familiar despite how long it’s been. Peter shivers as he feels calluses rubbing circles into his skin. “May isn’t in, she’s got a night shift. You can stay.” Peter bites his lip, “Please stay.”

“I’ll consider it.” Tony kisses him then, all open-mouthed and languid, as if morning isn’t approaching and they have all the time in the world. Peter wants to believe, he’s already rock-hard at the thought, the smell of motor oil and expensive cologne overwhelming his senses. 

“I know you can’t promise me anything—” Peter whispers, in between kisses. “But promise me—“

“Baby, just ask” Tony mumbles against Peter’s lips. “I’m a multi-billionaire.” 

Peter snorts, “This isn’t like the time I wanted a Netflix account and you bought the entire stupid company. It’s just.” He hesitates, “This is real, right?” 

“Real?” Tony’s breath hitches, breaking away from the kiss and Peter feels the anvil drop

“I-I know you’re with Pepper. Or you were, before space and everything. And we were fine, I mean. I understood. I knew it wasn’t my place. But now there’s Morgan to think about. And I know you can’t leave. Like, it wouldn’t make sense, but I just need to know. Because it’s technically been years. Because of the blip and Thanos.So, um. I was just asking if it’s still real for you. With us, I mean. Even if you’re still with her, you still—“ Peter stammers, heart caught in his throat, but the words spill out anyway, “You still love me, right?” 

“_ Peter _,” Tony’s voice hums inside Peter’s chest, “I love you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.” Tony runs his hands through Peter’s hair, holds the younger boy’s face for a moment, registering the blush, the swollen pink of his lips. “I forget all that we’ve been through sometimes because it feels simpler that way. But you’ve changed. I know that. And it’s okay because it still —”

“Feels like the first time,” Peter finishes, looking at Tony, brushing his thumb against the older man’s bottom lip. “I wish we could go back” he whispers. 

“Me too, but we can’t.” Tony nudges Peter’s nose with his. “We’re here now—”

“—and you love me,” Peter presses his lips to Tony’s, deepening the kiss and pulling the older man closer until Peter can’t tell where his hands begin and Tony’s fingers end. “Nothing else matters.” 

They kiss and kiss and kiss, until Tony is tonguing at the spot underneath Peter’s jaw, whispering, “Baby, I want to see you. Let me see you.” Peter scrambles to lie down, pulling off his shirt in one fluid movement, and Tony hovers right above him, eyes glazed over in undeniable want. 

“Fuck,” Tony curses, when Peter kicks off his boxers, his dick bobbing heavy, already leaking. “You’re pretty. Who let you be so pretty?” Tony mumbles, kissing Peter’s collarbone, working his way down to the smooth planes of Peter’s stomach. 

“_ Mr. Stark _ , _ ” _ Peter whines, feeling the ghost of Tony’s breath over where he wants it most. “Please-please, touch me,” Peter babbles when he feels Tony lick a stripe of his thigh. “I want you so bad.”

“Couldn’t ever imagine giving this up,” Tony whispers into Peter’s hips as his hand slowly jacks Peter off. Peter moans, loud and honest, as Tony tightens his grip, increasing the pace. 

“God, _ fuck _, just like that,” Peter groans, hips pivoting up to meet Tony’s fist. “Missed you so much, oh God.” 

“I missed you too, baby. Don’t know how to stop missing you, even though I’m. ” Tony breaks off, his hand coming to an abrupt stop. 

Peter lets his eyes flicker open, his head muddled from how close he’d been to coming. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony looks up at him then, his face instantly looking older than before, and Peter wonders how he didn’t notice the grief earlier. He feels something cold slide into his veins. 

“You-you said you don’t know how to stop missing me, even though you’re-you’re what? Tony?” He’s barely whispering, but he knows Tony hears him because the older man reaches up with his good hand to hold Peter’s face, fingers tracing his jaw. His eyes are soft, despite the hard lines of his face, the years of pain. 

“Even though I’m dead, Peter,” Tony says, his voice no different than in the hologram message he’d left Peter. _ Even though I’m dead, I still love you. _The USB that Happy pressed into his palm at the funeral. The funeral. Oh God. 

“No, no, that’s not true, I can feel you. _ I can hear your heartbeat _ . You’re not—” Peter feels his lungs deflate rapidly, his fingers clawing at Tony’s grey henley, _ it feels real, you’re real. _

Peter blinks away his tears, and suddenly he’s holding air, his dick still half-hard against his thigh. His bed is cold and the alarm clock tells him it’s 5 am. He licks his lips, tastes nothing other than mint and the slight bubble gum aftertaste of his mouthwash. Tony was never here. Tony couldn’t be here. He’s buried under layers of cool soil, miles and miles from where Peter is currently crying silently into his pillow. 

_ Tried to keep my eyes closed _

_ I want you so bad _

_ Then I awoke and it was so sad _

  



	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For the next Tony Stark, I trust you. _ Peter blinks away the goatee, brown eyes, smell of expensive cologne, sound of cufflinks… and tries not to think twice about his choice to give Quentin the glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clearly this chapter also literally wrote itself... like wow. this is really intense on the angst... but Peter is... suffering. this fit is just like sad Peter hours. 
> 
> again thank you for the comments and kudos! they literally r like crack 2 me and help me write so so much faster. shout out to my beta dina for making me work for the angst in this chapter and supporting me as always <3
> 
> update: honestly this fic is so sad I don't think I can finish this so I'm just gonna end it here as like a vignette series!

_ You came to me _

_ You were the sweetest apparition, such a pretty vision _

_ There was no reason, no explanation _

_ The perfect hallucination _

Peter doesn’t mean to stare. 

It hasn’t happened since that first night when Peter had so easily forgotten, days after the funeral, what his world looked like now that Tony was gone. It’s been a month since then, and he’s in Prague, thousands of miles and memories away from New York City. There’s no logical reason for his body to sense Tony so viscerally, but when Quentin puts on the glasses, Peter can hardly remember what they’re joking about. He feels his breath catch, staring at where Quentin leans in, smirking behind the glasses, a look Peter never learned to stop desiring. 

_ What do you think, kid?  _

He knows Quentin isn’t Tony, despite the way his hand settled warm on Peter’s lower back when they walked into the bar and how he happens to call Peter  _ kid  _ with almost the same lilt to his voice. But for a moment, he can hardly tell the difference. Can only remember the time Tony had flashed him that gaze after a week long business trip, motioning to the Rolex he’d bought Peter as an apology for how long he’d been gone.  _ I don’t even wear watches.  _ Peter had gasped against the older man’s mouth, when Tony pressed him against the kitchen counter seconds later. It’d been clear later with the way he’d been fucked that Tony sometimes gave Peter things just because he could. 

Peter felt that EDITH was a bit like the watch. Tony knew that Peter was just a friendly Spider-man, had been there when Peter had walked out of the compound and chosen Queens. He knew Peter already had Karen and his powers; the billion dollar defense system would just be an extra, though unnecessary, bonus. It was the kind of thing Peter wouldn’t even know how to ask for. One last way for Tony to dazzle Peter,  _ even dead I’m the hero.  _

But the thing is, Peter never needed a watch or glasses or 15% of Stark Industries to feel the magnitude of awe he did when Tony simply walked into a room. Even before they’d started sleeping together, Peter looked up to Iron Man and the genius behind the mask. To Peter, it’ll always be personal. It wasn’t the suit who made the hero, it was the hero who made the suit. While Tony didn’t always act in accordance, compartmentalizing his actions as Iron Man separate from his actions as Tony, the latter good while the other bad, he knew Peter wasn’t the same. It was much harder for Peter to justify “turning off” Spider-man. It was hardly about the suit or gadgets because if it came down to it, Peter would show up to a fight wearing a onesie if he had to. 

In retrospect, Tony and him were strangely different, despite their fair share of interests and trauma. It didn’t matter that when Peter was 10, he wore an Iron Man mask and Tony let him think he shot a robot out of the sky. It didn’t matter that before the bite, he wanted to be Iron-Man and that after the bite, he’d still trade his powers to be half the man Tony was everyday. Tony had been the dream, in more ways than one, and Peter can’t help but feel all of it had died with him. 

_ For the next Tony Stark, I trust you.  _ Peter blinks away the goatee, brown eyes, smell of expensive cologne, sound of cufflinks… and tries not to think twice about his choice to give Quentin the glasses. Peter feels better thinking it was an act of fate that brought him here to a bar in Prague, instead of his ever-growing need to run away from everything that Tony had been.  _ He’d want you to have them _ , Peter lies, hopes Quentin can’t hear how his voice wavers. Some part of him knows Tony would be offended, upset like when Peter had tried to return the Rolex, only to have Tony press a kiss to the inside of his wrist and whisper,  _ but it’s yours.  _ Peter hadn’t been sure if he’d been talking just about the watch. 

But Tony isn’t here anymore to run a hand through his hair and tell Peter how good he looks in his last gift, isn’t here to remind Peter that he deserves good things,  _ nice  _ things, no matter what’s going on in the world. Instead, Peter has an expensive watch and a guilt complex bigger than Titan. He’s done his best to hide it from May, and it’s been almost too easy to hide it from Ned. The Blip means that everyone has something to worry about; so what if Peter remembers turning into dust? So what if he still wakes up shaking, reaching for Tony, an apology lodged in his throat? Ned wouldn’t understand, and neither would May. No one would. They weren’t there. They didn’t see him die. Not even Pepper, who’d been there, had heard his heartbeat stop, seconds after Peter had whispered,  _ We won Mr. Stark, we won.  _

Maybe it’s foolish, but he wants Quentin to stick around. And Peter’s been around enough to know that nothing comes without a price. Fury is a hard-ass, and he isn’t sure if the Accords would even let Quentin stay. Peter’s already seen who Quentin can be, maybe Fury will too. He doesn’t mention this to Quentin, just hands over the controls.  _ Welcome to the Avengers.  _

Quentin gives him a small smile, takes Peter’s hand and holds it for what feels like a second too long. Peter returns the gesture before ducking out of the bar, his mind whirring. Maybe they’ll move back into the compound. If there are other Earths out there, it could be a start to a whole new era of theoretical physics and scientific discovery. Tony would want him to work with Quentin. It’s the right choice. He could be the key to it all. 

As he walks back to the hotel, he knows Tony’s eyes were never this blue-green, never this guarded. But he remembers the way Quentin had looked at him, the first time they met.  _ Don’t ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room.  _ His eyes had settled on Peter only for a second but the moment of recognition was undeniable. It’d been so long since he’d had someone  _ understand _ . 

On the roof, Quentin had come after him, no order from Fury required. He’d listened to Peter’s voice crack about MJ, offered some advice, called him  _ a good kid.  _ Had said,  _ I like you Peter. I’m glad you’re here.  _ Peter’s legs had hung over the ledge, all of Prague just twinkling below. It was the farthest thing from New York, but Peter had been overcome with an overwhelming sense of comfort. For the first time since the funeral, he felt a shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to do this all alone like Tony had intended him to. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... yeah... that was.... sad. gonna be honest I sobbed violently while writing this, specifically the head canon that I have that Peter heard Tony's heart stop. like... shit. 
> 
> thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading. come cry with me in the comments, would love to hear your thoughts on how badly this might've wrecked you, because i literally cried while writing this skkkss.


End file.
